


Even if I run away, you always find me

by MsPeppernose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Years, Peterick, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/pseuds/MsPeppernose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete drags Patrick to a big New Year's Eve celebration, but Patrick is not feeling so good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even if I run away, you always find me

Pete has been talking about the party since before Christmas. It's supposedly the party of the year, if not the whole decade, according to Pete. Or something. Patrick isn't all that interested. New Years always smells like a let down from miles away. Everyone gushes about going to the best party ever, the best celebrations, fireworks displays, whatever. There's a lot of emphasis put on where everyone is at the exact moment of midnight. And of course it matters who kisses who as the clock strikes twelve, or if they get kissed at all. New Years always feels like an anticlimax even before it happens. So Patrick doesn't really care about the party too much.

That said, he doesn't really want to stay home by himself like a lonely loser, so he agreed to go with Pete and the other guys to this apparently amazing and out of this world party. Pete keeps going on and on about how it will be full of fun people, an awesome DJ, some super hot girl or other that he has his eye on, and so many other things, that Patrick closes his ears to most of it. The more Pete amps it up, the more Patrick knows it will be a let down and that he will probably spend midnight squashed in a corner, watching Pete smooching the face of someone. Maybe it will be an okay evening, but he's not counting his chickens.

The other thing that Patrick hates about New Years Eve, apart from the let down of the parties, is the emphasis that everyone seems to put on the new beginnings of New Year's Day. It's as if the clock resets and everyone gets a new shot at everything on January first. People seem to be suddenly full of regret for a waisted year and pin their hopes on everything being ten times better in that wonderful place that's full of potential; next year. Patrick has had a great year, the band are doing better than ever, he's mostly happy. He's not going to join in with everyone else's panic to fix their life tomorrow because he only has one or two things that he'd change.

As Patrick's day wears on and morning turns into afternoon, he starts feeling tired around mid afternoon but puts it down to having a crappy diet of mostly junk food over the festive season. Nothing like over indulging to drain the hell out of you.

When afternoon turns to evening and party time is approaching he starts feeling worse. His limbs are heavy, his head is starting to pound. He texts Pete to say he's not sure he's feeling up for it. But Pete being Pete tells him he's not getting out of it that easily and tells Patrick he'll be there to pick him up shortly. Pete seems to assume that Patrick is either exaggerating, or knowing Patrick's hatred for New Year's Eve parties, thinks that he's feigned illness to get out of going.

Right before Pete shows up, Patrick pops two paracetamol for his headache. Maybe Pete is right and it's all just psychosomatic and he'll be fine once he has a glass of champagne in his hand. It's worth a shot at least.

Pete has made an effort for the night out. He's dressed in fairly smart skinny jeans (they look like they may have actually been washed in the past week), and a smart button down shirt under a black blazer. His eyeliner is perfectly applied and his hair is flat ironed to within an inch of it's life. He looks incredible, he's scrubbed up very well indeed and Patrick's impressed. Whatever girl Pete has his eye on at the party tonight will be putty in his guitar calloused hands. 

"Dude, you look so good." Pete gushes. Patrick has made an effort too, but he doesn't feel quite and shiny as Pete looks.  
"Thanks. Let's go. I feel like shit but maybe I'll feel better when we get there?"  
"You totally will, Trick. It's gonna be great, I promise." Pete beams at him, and Patrick can't help but hope that he's right, and that tonight will be worth it.

The car brings them to a very swish and swanky downtown hotel, and even Patrick with his most cynical hat on, will admit that the place looks completely over the top and amazing. When they get inside, the place is crammed with people and it's all glamour and opulence, with huge displays of champagne and scantily clad serving guys and girls passing around tiny decadent canapés. It's pretty amazing.

Patrick's mood would be swaying towards thinking that it could be a great night, if his body wasn't starting to hate him. His legs feel stiff and achey when he walks and his head is splitting despite the painkillers he took. A gorgeous waitress in a teeny tiny dress presses a glass of champagne into his hand with a wicked smile and Patrick takes it. Pete grins and claps him on the shoulder, obviously thrilled that Patrick is drinking and therefor getting into the spirit of the night. Pete is dragged off by someone he might know, or knows him, or something, Patrick's not listening. He stands near the bar and surveys the room. Pete might actually be right, damn him, the party looks like it's off to a great start. Patrick sips his champagne but only makes it through half of the glass before the bubbles start to make him feel ill and he's starting to feel dizzy.

In the space of a few minutes he's too warm, and the music is too loud and he knows he has to leave. 

He makes his way across the room to where Pete is talking to someone but comes across Andy first. Instead of greeting him, Patrick explains that he has to leave. "I'm gonna take off. I feel like crap. Think I need to lie down."  
"Dude." Andy rummages in his front pocket and pulls out a key-card and passes it to Patrick. "Pete has a room booked. I dropped his bag up there for him earlier. Go lie down there."

Pete has a hotel room booked. Of course Pete has a hotel room. Pete once forgot to bring his passport to the airport, but trust him to be prepared when there's the chance of getting laid. Patrick would laugh except that everything hurts and laughing is too much energy. He happily takes Andy's key-card and heads for the exit. He runs into Pete on the way, but before he can tell Pete that he's just going to go lie down for a bit - in his room - a girl comes and snatched Pete away. Patrick presumes it's the girl who Pete has been so excited about seeing. She's incredibly beautiful and she's looking at Pete like he hung the moon just for her, so Pete won't be getting away any time soon.

"I'll catch you in a sec, Trick." Patrick nods but knows Pete won't catch him in a sec unless he's looking in his hotel bed so he leaves and heads upstairs.

When Patrick gets into the hotel room - and it feels like he will never get there, dear god, it's so far away - he only just about manages to get his shoes and jacket off before flopping down onto the bed and getting under the covers. He feels like his entire head is too big, the alcohol and loud music did absolutely nothing to help him in that area. He feels like he's about a hundred years old and could easily sleep for a week. If he just has a little rest though, he's sure he can get back down to the party. He'll be back before anyone even notices he's missing. He closes his eyes, just for a little bit, and drifts off into a fevered sleep.

Patrick's sleep is fitful and restless, and he sleeps far beyond the quick nap that he had intended. He wakes a few times and each time it's only briefly. He's aware of being too hot, his head does that spinning thing that makes him not able to move much, and all he can do is try to sleep more. When he fell asleep, the lights were on but now it's pretty dark, with just the light from a small lamp lighting the room. He remembers next to nothing except for someone pressing a glass of water into his hand, a soft and comforting voice, and dark, kind eyes. It must be a dream.

When he wakes again, it appears to be morning. The curtains are not fully closed and there's daylight seeping in between them. He's slept the whole night, through midnight, and missed the countdown entirely. He's only a little bit sad that he missed all of the festivities. He still feels like crap, but so much better than when he practically crawled into the hotel room the night before. He stretches a little and is pleased to realise that his limbs are a lot less like lead than they were before, his head feels close to normal sized again. On the flip side, he's slightly alarmed to realise he has no pants on. He's certain that he had pants on when he got into bed. When he moves again and opens his eyes he's also very aware that he's not alone, a heavy weight to his right indicates a second person on the bed.

Pete is curled up beside him, on top of the covers and fast asleep. That might explain the brown eyes he was dreaming about. 

Water is most definitely needed, Patrick's throat is parched. He tries to pull himself out of bed but he's still stiff. It's a lot of effort, and with all his shuffling Pete begins to wake.

"No. Trick. Lie back down. You're sick," Pete says blearily. He rubs his eyes and spreads his eyeliner further than it usually is. He looks like a sleepy, emo raccoon.  
"Just need water."  
"Let me. Sit." Patrick obeys. He still feels like garbage so it's not much of a decision.

"How are you feeling?" Pete's voice is full of concern and Patrick thinks it feels nice. Patrick feels sort of bad for stealing Pete's hotel bed and ruining his night.  
"Like trash, but better than last night. Sorry I ruined your hook up. Must have been pretty hot to come back here and find me passed out? Were you back late? Was she pissed?"

Pete looks confused. He furrows his brow but then smiles at Patrick. "Nah, my hook up was perfect. She was amazing. We were at it all night, right there." He points to the space on the bed beside Patrick. "I'm surprised you didn't wake up. We were so loud! You really didn't know? I thought maybe you were just into into it. "

Patrick feels horrified and his face flushes. He's about to open his mouth to freak at Pete, when Pete grins at him. "I'm just kidding, Patrick. I followed you back about a half hour after you left. Andy told me you were sick and were going to my room. You woke and just mumbled. I thought you knew I was here the whole time."

Patrick's body flushes again but this time with relief because, ew and gross. He remembers the soft voice and brown eyes again. He doesn't remember Pete coming back to the room, he had assumed that he had come back in the dead of night after the party, possibly drunk and probably with that girl in tow, noticed Patrick asleep and sent the girl packing. But Pete had given up the whole party for Patrick. Patrick's heart skips several beats at Pete's kind gesture. 

"So you missed the countdown?"  
"Sure," Pete says, like it's nothing, like he hasn't been talking about that party for weeks. "I was here all night. I couldn't leave you all sick and disgusting by yourself, could I? Must have been pretty feverish if you don't remember. You were boiling hot."  
"So you took off my pants?"  
"You know me, Trick. Been trying to get into your pants for years." Pete smirks and raises an eyebrow, and then passes Patrick the glass of water. "You were burning up." He shrugs and rummages in his bag pulling out Advil and passes them to Patrick to take with the water.

Patrick swallows them with a mouthful of water and lies back down again. He's feeling tired. He must look it too, because Pete is all concern again. 

"Sleep, dude. You need it. I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" He all but tucks Patrick in and Patrick drifts off again but feeling much happier than the previous night.

*

When Patrick wakes again he feels infinitely better in comparison to how dreadful he had felt. Pete is wide awake this time and curled up on the sofa with his laptop.

"Hey, Patrick. Welcome back to the land of the living," he smiles. "Feeling better?"  
"Actually yes." Patrick stretches and the difference in how he feels is immense. Almost brand new, his body feels like his own again.  
"Good. Are you hungry? I got room service to bring up food. I got you some soup. Soup is good when you're sick, right? But you were asleep and it's cold now anyway. I can call for more?"

Patrick's heart might burst right through his chest. He's touched by how sweet Pete is being, he feels thoroughly looked after.

"Yeah, Soup would be awesome, thanks. Shouldn't you be checking out though? No need for your hook up room now."  
"Dude. I'm way ahead of you. I rang reception already and told them to extend my stay. You're sick. Much more important." Pete looks at Patrick like he's nuts for even suggesting such a thing.

Pete gets soup and fresh bread sent up to the room and Patrick feels so much better after he's eaten. He's still tired, still a little bit snuffley, and he's still not moving from bed, but he does feel better than before. 

Pete finally abandons his laptop and climbs up on to the bed beside Patrick. "Going to cuddle you 'till you're better," is all he says, and fits his body around Patrick's. His head is tucked onto Patrick's shoulder and his arm is around his waist. 

"Thanks for leaving the party, Pete. I know you were looking forward to it."  
"'s just a party."  
"And that chick you were chasing after?"  
"You're much more important." Pete beams up at him.

Patrick wraps his arm around Pete and Pete shuffles in closer. "Well thank you, Pete. It means a lot."

Pete tilts his head up to face Patrick, his eyes are bright and his smile is genuine. 

They lie there for what feels like a really long time. Patrick can feel Pete's breathing slow, and he feels relaxed. Patrick would think that he's falling asleep but his eyes are wide open and he's staring into space.

"How are you feeling now, Patrick?" Pete's voice is quiet and he doesn't move when he speaks.  
"Okay, I guess. Better."  
"Any New Years resolutions?"  
"Nah. I don't really make them. You?"  
"Not really. Any regrets for last year?"  
"Nope. We had a good year, right? Do you?"

Pete doesn't answer but just looks up at Patrick. He shifts his weight so that he can shuffle his face closer to Patrick's. He looks directly at Patrick's mouth. He hesitates for a second and then leans down and kisses Patrick, square on the lips. Patrick is aware of how gross and sweaty he is from the feverish night, and how he hasn't brushed his teeth yet. But Pete doesn't seem to care. He kisses Patrick carefully and softly, like he's afraid he might break him because he's sick. He slides up closer to Patrick and kisses just a little bit harder. Patrick twists his fingers into Pete's hair and holds on for dear life. When Pete breaks the kiss, his eyes are twinkling and he's smiling at Patrick like the cat that got the cream.

"What was that?" Not that Patrick is complaining. Just checking that he's on the same page as Pete. Because that kiss was incredible.

"A kiss. A New Years kiss. You didn't get one, and I didn't get one." Pete pauses before adding, "And I've wanted you to be my New Years kiss for a long time, Patrick."

Patrick is reeling from that news, but he knows he feels the same. 

If he was forced to wish for something to be changed about the year that just ended, it would most likely be to have Pete, like this, but much sooner. If he was forced to make a resolution, it would be to have more of Pete, just like this.

"But I'm sick. You shouldn't be kissing me." Patrick is only half protesting. It's more of a way out for Pete if he wants it, than an actual objection on Patrick's behalf. Pete just smiles and cuddles closer to Patrick, pressing his lips to Patrick's again.  
"Totally worth it. And if I get sick, I can stay in bed all day and you can look after me."  
"Happy New Year, Pete." Patrick kisses the top of Pete's head, and Pete smiles up at him.  
"Happy New Year, Pattycakes."


End file.
